Sunset: Pact Arcanum: Book One (43 page)

Ana sighed. “It doesn’t matter now.” She turned back to Sullivan. “I’m going to have to take your agent into protective custody.”

“Like hell you are!” Sullivan blustered. “You can’t give orders to one of my men.”

“He’s not one of yours anymore, Agent.” Ana’s remained perfectly calm. “He’s one of mine now. And in a few hours, he’ll know it too.” Stepping past Agent Sullivan, she said, “Agent Anderson, what’s your full name?”

The man swallowed. “Jackson Vincent Anderson. Am I really one of you?”

Ana nodded sadly. “Yes, Jackson, you really are. But there’s a problem. Almost half the occupants of this building are vampires, and the VIP guests haven’t even arrived yet. When your Gift manifests fully, your first instinct will be to attack. We have to make sure you can control yourself before we can allow you free rein; otherwise, you’ll be a danger to everyone around you.”

Sullivan bristled in anger. “Agent Anderson is a United States citizen. You can’t just detain him based on a glance!”

Stanton rolled his eyes. “The ability to identify an active Sentinel is innate to all Air Sentinels. The others have to use a spell with specific intent to identify each other, but we just know. We can get someone out here to do the standard spellform, if you want confirmation.”

Sullivan snarled. “This is ridiculous. All we have is your word that he’s going to turn into a Sentinel.”

Stanton’s eyes glittered with barely suppressed rage. “Are you saying my word isn’t good enough?”

Anderson raised his hand. “Can I get a word in?” He turned to Agent Sullivan. “Sir, I have no wish to become a security risk. With your permission, I will accept the embassy’s offer of protective custody.”

Sullivan grimaced. “Honestly, that would probably be best, Jack.” He held out his hand. “Please accept my sincere apologies for placing you in this position.”

Anderson shook his hand and walked back to Ana. “I’m ready.”

“Escort our new brother to an interview room and make sure he’s comfortable and under guard before returning to your duties,” Ana instructed Stanton.

“Yes, Ma’am.” He turned to Anderson. “If you will come with me, brother.”

Ana watched the two of them walk away, then addressed the remaining humans sternly. “Here’s your first lesson. The rules you live by in the outside world don’t apply here. There are dangers in our world, pitfalls you will never be prepared for, some that can drag you kicking and screaming into the darkness whether you like it or not. We’ll try to afford you as much protection and preparation as possible, but in the end, you have to decide if you wish to take the risk before you go any farther.” She locked eyes with each of them in turn. “If any of you wish to back out now, you may do so without prejudice. This will be your first chance to withdraw.”

President Daniels looked at the First Lady. She nodded.

“My wife and I would like to proceed,” he said.

“Agent Sullivan?” Ana asked.

“We’ll do our jobs. Just give us a heads up when one of these dangers we don’t know about is heading our way.”

“We’ll do that.” She turned to the camera crew. “Ms. Bradshaw. Are you and your team up for this?”

The reporter had been conferring with her staff but turned to face Ana as she spoke. “We’re in, Agent Nizhoni. All the way.”

Ana looked the entire group over. “Then all of you please follow me.” She walked into the main hallway, leading them to a white platform at the end. “Please stand on the platform.”

President Daniels studied the inscribed star design. “What is it?”

“Short-range fixed-point teleport. It will take you to the lobby of the banquet hall on the top floor. Someone will meet you there to go over the rules for this event. All aboard.” She waved them onto the platform.

“Group transit to banquet hall level. Execute.”

The humans gasped as their surroundings turned pure white, and then suddenly they were standing on another platform in a different room. Similar to the front atrium in design, the exit of the new room was closed by a sheet of silver metal embossed with the seal of the Triumvirate. They stepped off the teleport disk and onto the floor.

“Welcome,” Jeremy said, standing next to the silver wall, in a gray tuxedo embroidered with the seal of House Luscian. Immediately, the three remaining Secret Service agents stepped in front of the President and First Lady, shielding them.

Jeremy held up his hands, palms out. “Peace, ladies and gentlemen. I am here to explain the rules to you on behalf of your host this evening. I am Agent Jeremy Harkness, Armistice Security.”

President Daniels stepped out from behind his agents. “Mr. Harkness, you are a wanted fugitive for your part in the Los Angeles incident. Why would we be interested in hearing anything you have to say?”

Jeremy let his hands drop, and his gray eyes assessed the President openly. “Because I am the Sentinel with the most human perspective in the Armistice, sir, and because I have absolute authority over whether you are allowed to pass through this door. Mr. President, if I am not satisfied that you understand what you’re getting into, I will deny you entry.”

President Daniels frowned. “Are you saying your people are giving me no choice but to cooperate with a terrorist?”

“There’s always a choice, Mr. President.” Jeremy watched him calmly. “You can turn around and walk away without prejudice. This is your second chance to leave. We will be disappointed you chose not to join us in celebration, but we won’t hold it against you. And you will continue to be invited to other diplomatic functions here.”

Jeremy clasped his hands behind his back as he stood at relaxed attention. “But if you choose to accept one of those invitations, you will find yourself back before this door and facing me again, every single time, until you listen to what I have to say.” He tilted his head slightly. “From what I’ve heard, you have already lost one of your party to your own ignorance of the risks you face here. It would be a shame to let that sacrifice be for nothing. We are unwilling to let you step into this situation unprepared. The consequences are too high.”

The President and Jeremy stared at each other silently, locked in a silent battle of wills. Finally, President Daniels spoke through clenched teeth. “Mr. Harkness, you are a terrorist and a felon. I am appalled that your people would put you forward to represent them at such an important event.”

Jeremy shrugged. “Mr. President, a better question might be whether the event is important enough for you to be allowed to represent your people, despite your objections. I have earned my place here. Whether you are able to do the same remains to be seen.”

Daniels said nothing for almost a minute, his face darkened with anger. Finally, he gave an almost imperceptible nod and folded his arms. “Say what you need to say, Agent Harkness.”

“What you have to understand is that the people you are about to meet have tens of thousands of years of experience at fitting into human society, at not standing out from the crowd. Out in your world, they behave and act as humans do, for the most part. Tonight, however, you will be on their turf. They will not be hiding what they are. It is my job to apprise you of the dangers.”

President Daniels nodded, a clipped movement that exhibited his irritation. “Continue.”

“The first thing you need to know is how they see humans. Nightwalkers have been hunting you for food and sport through the rise and fall of every human civilization in recorded history, and long before. To them, you are prey, sheep fit only for slaughter or for amusement. Sentinels have had the thankless task of defending you from the worst of their depredations, but even the Sentinels resent you to a certain extent for requiring them to give up their lives for your protection.

“The decision to invite you to this event has been met with a certain amount of resistance on the part of the Free People. You may be offered insult for that fact.” Jeremy sighed. “The second thing you have to understand is that you must not take such insults personally. If you try to trade barbs with one of our people, it may become the basis for a challenge to a duel.”

The First Lady’s forehead wrinkled into a frown. “A duel?”

“We’ll try to avoid that, if possible. However, if combat becomes necessary, it will be important for one of us to be able to fight on your behalf; you would have no chance at all on your own.” Jeremy picked up a small plastic case from the couch beside him. “Would each of you take one of these and put it on?” He handed the case to the President.

President Daniels opened it. It was full of gold medallions, each with the same rune and sunburst design as the symbol embroidered on Jeremy’s jacket. Some had a simple brooch pin in the back; others hung on a length of blue ribbon. Selecting one, he passed the case to his wife, who also chose one and passed the case on.

“What is this symbol?” the President asked.

Jeremy waited until everyone, including the TV crew and the Secret Service agents, had selected a medallion before answering. “It is the symbol of the Sun surrounding a word in Arcolin, the common human language when the war between Nightwalkers and Sentinels began. It has been the Seal of House Luscian for thirty thousand years.”

Ms. Bradshaw’s reporter instincts kicked in. “What is the word in the center of the seal?”

“The word is ‘death’.” Jeremy stood straighter. “The Seal of Protection declares that you are each under Ambassador Nicholas’ personal protection as long as you wear it. Each seal also contains a psychic inhibitor that will prevent your thoughts from being read by any telepaths of Second Order or lower.”

Agent Sullivan stepped forward. “I thought this event was being handled by Armistice Security. Why would we need the Ambassador’s personal protection?”

“Armistice Security is there to prevent any major incidents, and you’re all wearing blue clothing, which marks you as human, so people will cut you a lot of slack. However, in the unfortunate event that something goes bad, wearing this seal gives the Ambassador and members of his house the legal right to defend your honor, if required.”

“Exactly what do you mean by ‘defending our honor’?” Catherine Daniels looked perturbed.

“Madam First Lady, you will be the equivalent of a bottle of finely aged wine in a room full of recovering alcoholics. If, for any reason, one of our guests attempts to force you into something against your will, the Seal of Protection gives the Ambassador the right to have the offender taken out and executed. We don’t anticipate it will be necessary, but we want to be prepared.” Jeremy made eye contact with each of them in turn. “Make no mistake, there is always danger, but if you just show respect, you will be fine for the most part. The rest of the time, we’ll be there to back you up. This is your third and final chance to withdraw. After this, there will be no going back. Anyone want to bail at this point?”

The humans looked back and forth among themselves. No one took the offer. Instead, they all fastened the medallions to their clothes so that they showed prominently. Jeremy waited until they were finished before speaking again. “Grendel, bear witness.”

“Forensic recording enabled.”

Jeremy took a deep breath. “I extend the protection of House Luscian to all humans present in this room until such time as they leave this facility. Their honor is now ours to defend as if it were our own. Set and done this date over my seal and signature, Jeremy Kenneth Harkness Leshir Luscian, called the Seer.”

“Forensic recording terminated.”

“Open the door.”

The silver wall cracked in the middle, and the two halves slid silently apart. Jeremy indicated the door. “If you will all please follow me?”

He led them into the banquet hall. The first and most striking thing the humans noticed on stepping into the room was that they were on the roof.

“We’re outside?” one of the camera crew said questioningly.

Jeremy smiled. “No. The walls and ceiling are projecting a holographic view of the sky, as seen from the video sensor on the roof.” He pointed at the bright red sun inching toward the distant horizon. “The rest of the guests will be arriving as soon as the sun sets, in about an hour, but a few of our people are here already.”

The room was laid out in a crossed square. The arms of the cross acted as open aisles that ran past triangular tables of opaque white glass to an open dance floor. At the opposite end of the room, a large eight-pointed star design on the floor was met with silver metal pillars at each of the vertices. Leading them up the aisle to the center of the room, Jeremy showed them to a pair of large tables on either side of the aisle. Each table had one apex of the triangle missing, allowing a head chair to be placed there. The table on the left of the aisle had the seal of House Luscian etched into the glass. On the right, the glass was etched with a dragon overlaid with a sword and three concentric circles. Three people already lounged around the Luscian table, talking.

Jeremy pointed to the name cards at each place setting. “This is where you will all be sitting, as you’re temporarily under the protection of House Luscian. But please let me introduce you to a few people.” He indicated each of seated guests in turn.

“Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce
Michelle
Phillips Consors Luscian, Sike Kayani Consors Jiao-long, and Sentinel Tobias Jameson Consul Luscian.”

Toby waved to the camera.

“We have about an hour to kill before sunset.” Jeremy turned to the reporter. “I thought you might be interested in getting a human perspective on the inner workings of life in the Armistice.” He turned to the humans. “That is, if you don’t mind?”

Michelle laughed. “Jeremy, this is hardly the first time I’ve been dragged into an interview because of the guys. You don’t have to worry about us.” She turned to the President and First Lady. “Please, won’t you sit?”

“Do you mind if I join you?” asked Sike. “It’s kind of lonely sitting at the Jiao-long table all by myself.”

“Of course,” said Jeremy. “You can take Scott’s seat until Ana joins us.”

They took their respective seats. Pointing out the small control panel attached to the glass table in front of each place setting, Jeremy instructed, “If you touch the green control and state what you want, the kitchen will teleport the item to the black square next to the panel. Anything you place on the black square when you touch the red control will be automatically teleported back to the kitchens to be cleaned.” He placed a hand on the green control in front of him and said, “Macallan, twenty-year, room temperature, neat.” A few seconds later, a crystal tumbler appeared on the black square next to his panel. He picked it up and took a sip. Then he looked at the others. “Please feel free to order anything from the bar, alcoholic or otherwise. What we don’t have on site, we can have sent in pretty quickly.”